Just Some Girl
by Bong-Bang-Bing
Summary: AU. When a total (admittedly really adorable) stranger kisses Beca at a concert, her life becomes overcome by an intense infatuation for this girl. But the process of getting to know her is confusing, frustrating and painful. It started out as just knowing her name: Chloe. Pretty soon, though, Beca's entire life was being run by this girl who wasn't even aware of it. BECHLOE.
1. Chloe

I didn't even like this band. Their music was stale and repetitive, all of the songs sounding the same and never once catching my attention, the beat was monotonous to me and not as motion-inducing as other artists' work. The environment was less enjoyable as well. The people in the crowds all seemed fake, as if they didn't actually want to be there are were only occupying this bar for the booze, not the actual show itself. I only spotted a few people among the droves of adolescents wearing band merchandise or sporting any signs of music appreciation on their attire – while I stood in the corner, donned in a shirt with a band logo on it and dozens of bracelets covering my wrists also related to musicians of some kind.

I wasn't sure why I had gone to that show. Maybe I just wanted to get out for a while. Either way, I was starting to regret it, forgetting whatever reasoning I previously had and yearning to leave. The crowds were so dense though, I could barely make it to the door. Not wanting to endure the inevitable awkwardness that would arise from needing to push strangers out of the way in order to exit, I simply dealt with the cringe-worthy "music" being preformed by the band and tried to distract myself.

I didn't know anyone there. Usually I at least recognized a few people among the unfamiliar faces. This just proved to me that none of my respectful peers had wanted to come to this particular show, knowing how bad it would have been and being more smart than I had.

A few macho guys got into a shoving match a little closer to me than I would have liked, so I sidled along the wall until I reached a window and hoisted myself up onto the fairly wide sill, sitting on it. I had a better view of what was going on from this vantage point. People were standing shoulder-to-shoulder, and although I was used to the close proximities that didn't mean I liked them.

A girl that looked roughly my age apparently thought that my impulsive relocation was a good idea, since she joined me on the sill at my side. Though she didn't say anything to me and her eyes didn't even slightly look in my direction, I found myself examining her out of my peripheral vision. I wasn't sure why it mattered but I felt relieved when I saw that she seemed to be a genuine fan; her shirt sporting a band logo and a baseball cap worn loosely on her red, curly hair covered in stickers labeled with other band names. I diverted my attention before she caught me awkwardly looking at her. But I couldn't shake the image of her face from my head. Even if it was just a profile, she was extremely pretty. I had no idea why I was so entranced by her, she was just a girl, I knew literally nothing about her. But despite that, for once, I didn't at all mind our close proximity.

One of the dudes in the fight accidentally slammed into my left leg, sending me stumbling into the girl at my right. She smelt like apples, a very relieving, welcoming scent after the grotesque aromas of a bar. My cheeks lit with a red blush and I turned to look at her, our eyes locking. Hers were such a bright blue, the light black makeup that surrounded them making the color stand out even more. She had caught me in her arms when I fell, and I think I stayed in the impulsive embrace for a bit longer than was acceptable, but she hadn't shoved me away yet.

"Sorry," I mouthed the apology, knowing she wouldn't have been able to hear me anyway with the loud ambiance. I moved from her, my face resembling a beet, and returned to my original position, my hands folding together in my lap. I could feel her staring at me, though I simply couldn't bring my eyes to her again.

After about 3 minutes straight of sitting there, still knowing she hadn't looked away, I finally pushed the awkwardness I felt aside and looked at her. When I did, she smiled at me, her teeth a dazzling white that seemed to glow even in the dim lighting of this room.

"Don't worry about it," She mouthed back to me. It was then that I was really paying attention to the distance between us. Even though I knew that it was strange to be looking at her for this long, not saying anything, just staring, it was really hard to turn away. Giving her the best smile I could manage, I brought my attention back to the show. It was awful. I just stared at the floor.

There was still a small space on the sill, which was apparently large enough for another girl in the crowd to notice it. She hopped up, holding a red plastic cup in hand full of some kind of alcohol, rudely pushing the girl to my right aside to make more room. Now I was practically touching her side. I tensed up, trying desperately not to make any physical contact, worrying what I might do if that happened again. We were really close, to the point that if we were actually friends we would have been having a conversation, or interacting with each other, or linking arms or something, not at all worrying about bumping into one another. That, however, wasn't the case.

I felt myself jump slightly when a warm hand rested on top of mine. My head whipped towards her – the girl – and I was extremely surprised to see her just staring at me. We were so close to one another. I glanced at our hands – just as she interlaced our fingers together. I was so taken aback and confused.

When she started leaning towards me I had no idea how to react. I didn't know her. I didn't know her name, I didn't know her age, I didn't know anything regarding her. But she was pretty. So pretty. I was frozen and couldn't move away. Or maybe I wouldn't? I wasn't sure. All I was sure of was how close she was getting to me. And that I wasn't rejecting this advance. My eyes continued to move from her eyes to her lips, her lips that were getting so close to mine.

They were smooth and almost unbelievably soft. I felt my eyes close instinctively, reveling in the absolute perfection that this kiss emanated, that this kiss spread into me. Chills shot up and down my spine, my head was spinning, and I was paralyzed. She was kissing me. I didn't know why. I didn't know her. I didn't know how. I didn't even know if any of this was real. Her fingers tightened on mine. The sounds around us, previously blaring and deafening, were now silent and muffled, as if I was underwater.

I heard something, though. The other, slightly inebriated girl that had joined us on the sill rudely scoffed, and I heard her mumble under her breath, "Dykes," before hopping down and most likely merging in with the crowd.

The girl pulled away from our kiss, the space between us not very large but bigger than I wanted it to be. We both exhaled shakily in unison, our eyes still closed. When we disconnected the noise around us returned. Reluctantly opening my eyes, feeling as if the moment would cease to have existed if I did, I saw her amazingly blue ones staring back at me. Her expression was unreadable. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but must have become aware of the deafening sounds, before leaning forward again. I expected and hoped for another kiss but she instead moved to the right of my head, so that her lips hovered inches from my ear.

"I'm Chloe." She whispered huskily. I shuddered, feeling her warm breath trailing down my neck. That name was going to be permanently embedded in my mind. I knew it wasn't going to leave even if I willed it to.

"Beca," I responded, my own name sounding foreign to me. She remained right next to me, not moving from that position, me not wanting her to.

She abruptly moved completely away from me and hopped from the sill, conforming with the crowd and vanishing from my sight. My face fell and my stomach dropped. I had no idea why I felt such a horrible loss when she simply left without another word. But I found myself saying her name over and over again in my head.

_Chloe..._

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	2. Brass Cat

I waited by the door to the bar, looking at everyone that left, trying to pick her out from the crowd so that I could talk to her. I planned out what I might say in my head. Maybe find out more about her. Ask if she wanted to spend more time together. Ask why she had even kissed me in the first place. Ask about her interests. Her music taste. Anything. I just wanted to know her.

But I didn't see her anywhere. It was as if she had never been inside that bar in the first place. For the rest of that night I had an unpleasant feeling in the pit of my stomach. I just wanted to see her one more time. I wish I just had the chance to say something.

For the next couple of weeks all I could think of was her. My friends asked why I seemed so out of it and I honestly didn't know what to tell them, so I didn't ever give them an honest answer. My co-workers were frustrated with me for not doing my work as efficiently as usual. Eventually I just asked my boss for some time off, it was getting so bad. I had a lot of vacation days accumulated so it was fine.

I spent all of my time just trying to get her out of my mind. I hung out with my friends, trying to fill the weird gap created by her absence. I blasted music in my ears that was the opposite of the music that had been playing when she had kissed me, just in an attempt to get that entire experience to fade in prominence. It didn't work. Nothing worked.

One day, while I lay on my friend's couch in his basement, face-first into the cushion, he asked me a question I actually didn't know the answer to.

"Becs?" He asked. I groaned into the cushion as a response, "What's been up your ass lately?"

I sat up a bit so that my words might be coherent, though it took me a good minutes or so before I could think of what to what to say back to him, "I've just been out of it," Was all I could come up with, hoping that he would leave it alone.

I was mistaken, "Bullshit, what's wrong?" Even though he sounded uninterested and bored, I was surprised he was even this apparently concerned with my mood.

Sighing a bit shakily, I tried desperately to avoid the topic that actually bothered me, "Jess, I just..." Finally thinking up a decent excuse, "...it's my dad. He's been hounding me for a month 'cause he's in town. I don't want to see him because I know I'm gonna get the same: 'I'm so disappointed in the way you turned out' speech. I've been avoiding him but I'm bound to see him at some point. It's a small town and he's very intrusive."

Jesse was quiet for a while. I looked over at him for a second, my hands burying into my hair. He was looking through a stack of CDs absentmindedly. Finally he let out a huff of breath and spoke.

"Jeez, Becs, you're being a total downer," He said. For a second I expected him to just mock me for complaining about my problems, but he surprised me with, "Look, I hate seeing you this bummed out. Why don't you come to a show tonight? It'll cheer you up. You haven't been to any in a while, have you? Nobody's seen you apparently. People have been asking me stuff." His pulled out a CD's case, opened it, saw the disk wasn't there and swore under his breath.

I looked at him but he was suddenly focused on his search, his back totally to me now when he had previously been looking at me from his peripheral vision. I grabbed my beanie from the side table and put it onto my head.

"Where?" My head started to throb slightly for an unknown reason.

"Brass Cat," He mentioned one of the few bars that was actually in town, not outside the borders in one of the nearby cities, which was usually the case.

"When?"

"8:00."

"Who?"

"Jesus what is this twenty questions? It's just a few local bands. They're good. I'm only interested in the last one though."

"Fine," My head continued to ache.

"Good, you've been moping way too much. That doesn't help anything, you know."

Jesse knew basically everyone that went to these shows. Since my head was unfortunately constantly plagued with thoughts of Chloe, a question regarding her was blurted out without me even realizing it.

"Do you know a girl named Chloe?" I asked, laying back down on the couch, on my back this time with my arms folded behind my head.

"Chloe what?" He started just pulling boxes out of his CD shelf grudgingly, mumbling to himself.

"I uh, don't know her last name."

"Well then no, I don't."

I wasn't sure what I expected. I knew nothing about her, so I couldn't really give an accurate description.

Shrugging it off like it didn't bother me, I just mumbled, "Okay," I pulled my beanie down hard, over my face, so my entire head was covered with it. I didn't feel like functioning properly.

"Why?"

_Fuck. _I thought to myself, wondering what lie I could come up with this time, "I met her for a sec at a show a while back. She seemed cool but I haven't seen her since."

"Oh, okay." It was quiet for a while – a comfortable silence filled with the occasional "goddamn it" or "where the fuck..?" Finally, I heard Jesse sigh dejectedly and say, "I've gotta go get some people for the show, why don't you go get ready or something? I'll see you there."


	3. Wink

I had been to probably hundreds of bars in my time, all of them varying from spotless to practically falling apart. The Brass Cat was for some reason one of my favorites, and not because it was clean and civil, but because it just felt familiar. It was down the street from my first childhood home, it was one of the first bars I went to, it was where I drank my first alcoholic beverage, and I met some of my closest friends at shows there. I liked the rowdiness. I liked the general crowd. And that night, I even liked the music.

It was exactly the type that I could get into. It wasn't embarrassing to watch. It got the crowd moving and it made everyone energetic. Jesse was right, this was just what I needed. For the first time since I saw Chloe, she wasn't in my mind at all. I was just having fun, in the midst of this crowd of people doing the same thing as I was, all of us joined together by a mutual camaraderie created by this one shared interest. That is, until I spotted someone.

It was her. It was Chloe. She was amongst the crowd, closest to the band, cheering with enthusiasm. I suddenly felt myself stop still. When I had previously been jumping along to the beat of the music, I stood in place instead. My hand that had previously been pounding the air retreated to my side. My eyes barely blinked. And I just stared at her.

She wore the same baseball hat that she had the first night I met her – one covered with stickers with band names on them. She wore a loose-fitting t-shirt with tears in it, revealing the tan skin of her stomach and shoulders. Bracelets with song lyrics and other things covered both of her wrists and she looked so happy, her captivating blue eyes sparkling in the darkness. The people around me were too focused on the performance to notice my abrupt change in demeanor. I simply couldn't look away from her. Once again, she had me paralyzed, just by her absolute beauty.

It was only after looking at her for two songs straight, without my eyes moving once, that she noticed me. How, I have no idea. She must have briefly surveyed the crowd and spotted me. I watched as her expression changed to that of interest. One of her eyebrows raised, and she stopped moving to the music as well. We just stood there, among dozens upon dozens of people jumping and moshing, staring at one another.

She then smiled at me, a smile that definitely had hidden meaning behind it, and she winked. Once. Briefly. But it was a wink. And it made my heart almost stop. My eyes stuck to her as she parted her way gracefully through the crowd until she reached the door to the one-stall woman's bathroom. I was suddenly compelled to follow her. I practically gravitated to the door.

When I got to it I just stood there. I wasn't sure what I was getting myself into, or if I had interpreted the signals wrong, or if I was unintentionally being really creepy. My uncertainty caused me to hesitate for a minute or so before finally deciding on knocking, like a normal person would.

And as soon as my fist made contact with the door, it was thrown open, and I felt my shirt grabbed by two hands that pulled me into the bathroom hard. Chloe had latched firmly onto the fabric, and she tugged me to the center of the room before slamming me aggressively against the wall. For a few seconds she stared at me, inches away from my face, both of our breathing heavy from lust.

When she kissed me I felt myself nearly collapse, my legs feeling unstable. This one wasn't like the first one we had – it was with more fervor and longing, with more desperation and haste like she knew we didn't have a lot of time and she wanted to make the most of it. I didn't even have to consider, automatically kissing her back, her hands still clutching my shirt. I wasn't even entirely sure what I was doing or what was going on but I was aware that it was real. I wasn't dreaming, this wasn't a hallucination or anything – it was real.

The feeling of her tongue sliding into my mouth further solidified the reality of the unbelievable situation. Again I didn't hesitate in returning the gesture, and I felt her make a small, adorable noise of pleasure in her throat when our tongues brushed against one another. I felt her shove me harder against the wall which normally might have hurt but at that moment I was too overcome with other sensations to register pain.

Her hands were already conveniently on my shirt and after a few more seconds she didn't at all hesitate in roughly grabbing one of my breasts, the action startling me even though this entire event was pretty surprising. My body shuddered at the contact and I felt her smirk slightly against my mouth before she broke our kiss, instead bringing her tongue to trail down my neck.

Some kind of bothersome voice of reason suddenly came out of nowhere, and I found myself speaking, my voice husky with desire, "We don't know each other..." Was all that I managed to get out before it turned into a gasp of pleasure when she nipped at the tender flesh of my neck.

Responding against my skin her voice sent vibrations along it, "We'll save that for later," And she resumed what she had been doing. I gasped again, partially in surprise, partially in desire, when I felt her hand move beneath my shirt and bra to grope my bare breast, her mouth now sucking at my pulse point. I felt like I was going to pass out. I honestly wasn't sure how to be feeling about this. I mean, I was enjoying it, but was it morally wrong or whatever? If my friends knew about this would they think it was slutty? I had never once done something even remotely similar to what was happening in that bathroom stall and I didn't know how to react, so I sort of didn't, just letting her keep doing whatever she planned.

Her mouth made its way back to mine again and she kissed me roughly, deeply. I returned the gesture with what I thought was the same amount of lust and longing, shaking a bit when I felt her teeth snag at my bottom lip. Her free hand was moving lower and lower, making me start to wonder just how far she planned on taking this – getting my answer when she slid that hand beneath my shorts and underwear and thrusted a finger inside of me.

Involuntarily I moaned into her mouth, feeling her smiling with pride against my lips. Once again she broke our kiss and instead licked at my neck, though all I could feel at that moment was her finger that was now pumping rhythmically in and out of me. I felt myself breathing heavily, my body becoming hot, finding myself once again not believing that this was actually happening. As if to disprove my thoughts Chloe bit down on one of my collar bones, making me shudder and feel as if I was going to collapse. Her hands were the only things keeping me standing.

Suddenly, everything we were doing was interrupted by a knock on the door. Both of us froze. We did nothing for a few seconds – her mouth having withdrawn from my neck and now staring at me, our faces centimeters apart at most. At least she seemed just as out of breath as I was.

Whoever was at the door knocked again. I watched as Chloe smiled devilishly before leaning forward and ghosting her lips across mine and drawing completely away. Her hand left from my shorts and I felt a tremendous feeling of loss when it did. She headed towards the door, still looking at me from the corner of her eye. When she stuck the finger she had used in her mouth, licking it clean, I let out a shaky breath I hadn't known I was holding in.

She opened the door and an annoyed looking girl stood there, luckily very drunk so she wouldn't have thought anything suspicious of two girls coming out of the one-stall bathroom, or the fact that one of them seemed so disoriented that she could barely walk straight. I staggered from the room, whatever breaths I managed to take being shallow and brief, my mind simply unable to comprehend what had just happened. Once again Chloe had merged with the crowds, vanishing from my sight. I couldn't stay there any longer. So I went home. Great, now she was on my mind all over again.

**Thanks for the reviews guys. Oh and I really don't understand why sometimes the chapters are all screwed up with weird technical stuff, it makes no sense :/ I'll try to fix it. Thanks for reminding me though, and letting me know and stuff. Please keep the reviews coming, they make my day!**


	4. A Tease

I didn't leave my house for probably three more days. I felt like I couldn't function, I was just so confused. My vacation days were running low and I knew that I was in no condition to go back to work. I was also aware that my tight-ass boss would most likely fire me at the first legitimate chance he could find. Therefore not only had Chloe successfully put my life on hold, she was making me nearly lose my job and was probably also weakening my few remaining friendships since I had no contact with anyone - and whatever interactions I did have were brief or unpersonalized.

I continued to slump around the house - tired, listless, uncertain – until there was a knock on my door. I answered it reluctantly, realizing I hadn't opened it in what felt like forever, and was surprised to see one of my friends standing there looking pretty unhappy.

Before I could speak a word Stacie pushed past me into my house. I sighed to myself before closing the door behind her, knowing that any sort of protest or argument I attempted to start would just cause more trouble in the long run. We had been friends since first grade, and although we've had quite a few falling outs over the years, out of everyone in the world – she knew me the best. Even more than my parents or any other member of my family.

"Beca, the fuck?" She asked me, storming into my living room and making herself at home on the nearest chair. Her glare was unwelcome but familiar. I followed her, deciding against sitting near her and instead sitting on the piece of furniture farthest away.

"What?" Was all that I could think of to say. I didn't plan on starting an argument if she gave me the option.

"What do you mean 'what'? Don't act like you have no idea why I'm here." She looked like she was about to murder me if I didn't say exactly what she wanted. This was one of the many times in our friendship when I wished I could read her mind. It would make things a lot easier.

Well, I kinda don't have any idea why you're here." Though it might not help with things, Stacie and I were always honest with each other, even when it might have done more harm than good.

She scoffed and rolled her eyes, "My ass you don't. Where the fuck have you been?! I haven't seen you in like a year!" That was an outrageous exaggeration. I wasn't entirely sure how long it had been, but that definitely wasn't the proper time.

Chloe was really ruining a lot of things regarding my life and she probably wasn't even remotely aware of it. I admit, it was mainly my inability to get her out of my head, and my bothersome hopes that for some reason made me think I had a chance with her that were causing the problems. But Chloe's mixed signals were far from helpful.

"I've been busy." That was a lame answer. And a clearly false one.

"I didn't come here for you to lie to me." Stacie said, crossing her arms indignantly.

Our eyes hadn't moved from one another's since we had sat down, and as a silence spread after her last words, the locked gaze got more intense. She hadn't stopped glaring since she barged in. I was worried her face would get stuck that way. Though I did my best not to let my expression show how I really felt - confusion, frustration, sadness, loneliness, and so many other negative emotions – eventually I knew I was going to lose all say in the matter. Stacie had a way with getting me to tell her whatever she wanted to know, no matter how determined I was to keep it to myself. I knew that some time during this conversation I was going to talk about Chloe. Would it be better sooner rather than later?

Finally, I sighed, showing Stacie that I had given in both with that exhale and by breaking our prolonged eye contact. I looked down at the floorboards, "At a show I went to a while ago I met this girl... this weird girl, and she's been bothering me ever since." That was too vague for her. I knew it.

"Bothering you how?" The fact that she had partially gotten what she wanted wasn't enough for her and she still sounded just as angry as she had before. I had learned from experience just to be patient with her.

Whatever lies I told would be detected by her, she saw through me like glass, so I would have to think of a way to tell her the truth without revealing what had happened. It would be difficult enough without a time limit.

"Like, she seemed really cool and the only thing she told me was her name, so I couldn't find her anywhere. I want to kind of become friends with her or something but she's never around." None of that was necessarily a lie.

Stacie still didn't look satisfied with the responses I was supplying, "And why exactly is this bothering you so much? You've been isolating yourself away from your friends just because some girl didn't tell you her life story at a show?"

When she put it that way it made me sound like a total idiot. She hadn't heard the whole story though. Then again, even if she had, I had a feeling that she still would have thought I was drastically overreacting. Honestly, I slightly thought that too. But I couldn't do anything about it. Chloe wouldn't get out of my head no matter what I did.

"No, I mean I just..." I really had no idea what to say to make her interrogation stop. Even though we were friends Stacie was a very judgmental person, and if she heard what had happened between Chloe and I she would definitely criticize me for it, "...she's really cool, Stacie."

Another silence followed that, this one even longer than before. It was becoming so tense and awkward that I finally forced my eyes to move to her again. She was staring at me, squinting, as if trying to read into what I had said. Unfortunately I knew that there was a very high probability she would detect exactly what I meant behind that. I could feel her prying, a familiar yet unwelcome feeling, and I was helpless to do anything about it. I just sat there, fidgeting uncomfortable, praying that she didn't figure it out. My prayers weren't answered.

"You dig her, don't you?" She asked. It didn't even really sound like a question, more like a statement.

At that moment I had two available options: lie and get found out, successfully embarrassing myself to a degree, or come clean even though that might be just as embarrassing, if not more. As soon as she said that I tore my gaze away from her and I could feel myself involuntarily blushing, which was apparently answer enough for her without me responding verbally.

"Wow, I guess this makes a emlittle /emmore sense now." I couldn't tell if that was sarcastic or not. But her angry tone had faded and was replaced with some other one that I couldn't quite determine the emotions behind, "I didn't know you were swinging for our team."

Now that I thought about it, throughout this entire ordeal with Chloe I hadn't once even registered the fact that she was a girl, and so was I. It just seemed normal, like how it would have felt if she was just some random guy instead. I didn't see anything weird about it, I hadn't even considered the fact that some people might thing it was weird because it came so naturally to me. I had no reluctance, no confusion regarding that aspect of the situation, and I hadn't even been mentally mulling over my sexual orientation because I had always thought that to be a bit excessive and unnecessary. Then again Stacie didn't know any of this. And even though I knew she wasn't homophobic I wasn't looking forward to her reaction.

I didn't say anything to this, now letting my emotional distress and uncertainty show through when I had previously been acting how I normally would have. I didn't know if she noticed or not, but I let my shoulders sag instead of holding them up and I let my frown become more bitter. Still I didn't look at her.

After a few minutes of awkward silence, it was broken when Stacie sighed heavily, "She must be pretty awesome to have gotten your attention so easily," She didn't sound angry at all now, which was only slightly relieving, "Now I wanna meet her too."

Finally, I forced myself to look back up at her. When our eyes met I could feel a lot of messages being conveyed through the gaze but at the moment I was in such an emotional stupor I couldn't even begin to tell what they were. For some reason I abruptly felt even worse than I previously had. We didn't say anything for a long time. Eventually I just sighed, burying my face into my hands.

"What about Luke?"

That one name was enough to make me almost just start screaming at her without hesitation. But with some difficulty I kept that back, instead revealing my face and glaring at her intensely. I got a bad taste in my mouth if he was even remotely mentioned. Stacie wasn't one to apologize or even to feel bad, but the look on her face showed me that she regretted bringing him up.

Nonetheless she attempted to defend herself or at least divert my anger, "I'm just wondering. I wasn't sure if you were over him or not..." She trailed off when my glare got more intense, "...I mean, it's great! If you are, moving on I mean. He was a total ass, you deserve way better, even if it is a girl, I mean that doesn't matter anyway gender is so overrated these days, I just mean he's usually around at shows and stuff and you might run into him at some point and you might be with her, or..." She could tell from my expression that it would be best if she stopped talking.

"Don't bring Luke into this. I don't need to be thinking about him right now." I told her, my tone acidic. She nodded vigorously.

"So... what are you gonna do about this girl then?" I was glad she was changing the topic, "Does she know that you like her?"

I opened my mouth to respond but then clamped it shut. Wondering if I would be able to talk any more about this without unintentionally revealing the... "interactions" we had. Unfortunately she noticed my avoidance of the question.

"Wait..." I tensed up at her knowing tone, "...something happened between you, didn't it?" I said nothing for minutes straight. She knew, again, that I was hiding something important. Naturally she jumped to conclusions, "What, so you... held hands?" I slowly locked eyes with her, shaking my head back and forth very very slightly, "...kissed...?" I didn't respond at all that time. I mean, sure, we technically had held hands and kissed but I knew that wasn't what she wanted to know. Though I wouldn't necessarily be lying if I told her yes, I would be lying if I told her that was all we did. I waited in awful anticipation as she continued to ask, "...made out...?" I looked down, cringing when she gasped theatrically, "...no. No you didn't."

I bit my lower lip, speaking cautiously, "And... what if I did..?"

Her reaction was as expected but that didn't make it any less embarrassing to experience. My cheeks lit up with a blush when she leapt from her chair in surprise, "You emdidn't!" /emShe had a smile on her face but her eyes showed just how shocked she was, "You fucked her?!" I found myself smiling as well, but only because of her ridiculous reaction, "Or, she fucked you?! Or you both fucked each- oh my emgod!/em" She moved to sit on the couch next to me.

"It wasn't..." My smile faded and I looked at my feet, "...It wasn't like that..."

What do you mean?" She sounded curious but still like she was shocked, nearly in disbelief. I just sighed, really wishing that I didn't have to talk about Chloe any longer, but knowing that Stacie wasn't going to leave it alone until I told her everything. She asked me another question, "What's this girl's name, anyways? Maybe I know her."

I shut my eyes, acquiring a throbbing headache seemingly out of nowhere, "Chloe."

Stacie gasped loudly, sounding even more astonished than she had before. I opened my eyes to look at her, raising an eyebrow, for some reason dreading whatever she was going to say next. My fear turned out to be justified in the end.

"Did she have red hair?" I nodded slowly, "Was she tan?" I nodded again, all of my attention entirely on her, "Did she have ridiculously blue eyes that made you wonder if she was wearing those eye color contacts?" I nodded, now terrified, becoming even more so when Stacie shook her head back and forth, "Oh fuck, Beca..."

"What?" I wasn't sure if I was prepared for her answer but I felt as if I needed to know. Maybe it would help me get out of this ridiculous attraction hangover thing.

"Beca..." Stacie's voice took on a tone that I recognized as one she used when telling me something I wouldn't like to hear. I tensed up when she put a hand on my knee, "I know Chloe. Or at least I know emof /emher. She's... well... how can I put this..." She thought for a few moments, "...she's a total slut." Ignoring my immense shock, she continued, "She's slept with like basically everyone that goes to shows, she always lingers around at bars and just picks someone out. And she emalways /emends up having sex with them at some point, whether it's that night, the next night, or whenever she really gets through to them." She looked into my eyes, sympathetic, "She's a tease, Beca... she's just a tease."

My mouth was held agape, feeling myself almost starting to cry. I simply couldn't fathom all of the information. My chest tightened. My face fell. My eyes stung. Stacie noticed. She noticed everything.

"Um... look I'm sorry. Maybe I should have worded that differently. But you know me, I'm brutally honest... but hey, I came here to get you to start coming to more shows. And I want you to come to one tonight. Please."

Honestly I really didn't want to.

But I knew that there was no saying no to Stacie. Not when she was this clear on her intent.


	5. Once, Or Twice?

I refused to move myself from the counter at the bar. I held a glass loosely in my hand, twirling it, not even entirely sure what was in it. I just idly sipped it every now and then, finding that the burning sensation the liquid made when it went down my throat was helping me pretend I wasn't there. It helped me get the thoughts of Chloe out of my head. Or at least it made them less vivid. The bartender was glancing at me, trying to be subtle, but I noticed. He looked sympathetic. Like he pitied me. I took a longer swig of my drink every time I caught him looking.

Stacie had dragged me here against my will, but it had taken absolutely all of her persuasive skills to even get me out of the house. When we got here and I sat at the bar, every time she tried to get me to move I simply gave her a look which made her immediately stop trying, though not without disdain.

Frankly I was terrified. If Chloe was here, if I saw her again, I wouldn't know how to react. I would freeze, stutter, maybe just leave. Or I might lose all of my nerve and give into whatever she tried to do. I might've kissed her if she initiated it, I might've done more if that was what she wanted. It seemed like when it came to her I had no willpower whatsoever. It made me feel weak.

"Beca?" My heart leaped into my throat. I knew that voice. I prayed that I was wrong. But I knew voices of people all too well. Especially his.

A familiarly rough hand grabbed my shoulder, trying to be gentle but failing. I set my glass down, looking across the counter, past the bartender. That was where the dance floor and stage were. The crowd was thick. I wondered where Stacie was, praying with every fiber of my being for her to see me, for her to save me from this situation. The hand turned me around in the rotatable bar stool. I didn't even try to feign happiness and let my surprise show clearly in my expression.

"It's Luke!" He told me, as if I didn't know. He looked exactly the same. Even though I hated him more than anything else in the world, I couldn't deny the fact that he was gorgeous. His blonde hair was the same, short length, perfectly styled, and he had faint, light stubble that blended in with his skin so well you barely noticed it. As usual he wore clothes that made him look like a male model.

He extended his arms and wrapped me into a tight embrace. I tensed up, not returning the hug in any way whatsoever. He was making me feel unclean. I felt my blood boiling.

Trying to reign it in, I shut my eyes tightly and muttered through clenched teeth, "Let go of me."

He laughed, my body vibrating at the sound, unintentionally. It hurt me. Emotionally. When he finally did withdraw I let out a quiet, shaky breath to myself. He wouldn't stop smiling. There was no real way to tell if it was genuine happiness. I doubted it. Basically nothing about him was genuine.

"Oh come on, Becky! Don't act like you're still bent out of shape from that," He acted like it was some insignificant event, when it had taken me months to get over. I glared at him and he just chuckled, "What was that, like a year ago?"

I refused to look into his eyes, "A year and a half, actually..." I mumbled under my breath.

He thankfully didn't hear it. Deciding to myself that I was done talking to him, I turned the stool back around, leaning against the counter, propping my head up with my hands. My eyes stuck to the crowd of people on the dance floor, searching desperately for Stacie, wondering where she was.

I was paralyzed when I felt his firm arms wrap around my stomach, his head resting on my shoulder. I _hated_ it when he hugged me from behind like this. It brought back memories I really didn't want to relive. Apparently he either didn't notice or didn't care about my obvious discomfort.

"You look great, you know," He whispered into my ear, his breath creeping down my neck in a way that made me almost punch him straight in the face. Clearly he wanted me to return the compliment. But I just wouldn't. There was no way in hell.

I finally managed to spot someone in the crowd that looked familiar. Her back was turned from me, but some sort of feeling about her convinced me that it was Stacie. I tried desperately to will her to turn around just by making my stare even more intense. I was pleased when it worked, but not pleased when I saw who it actually was.

Chloe. It was Chloe. I felt my emotional turmoil getting more hard to endure. First Luke, now her? God, this world was cruel. Or maybe I just had the worst luck in the history of ever. Chloe saw me. She was looking straight at me. Our eyes locked. She smiled. Jesus, her smile. I watched as her eyes shifted towards Luke, and her expression changed entirely. She looked... angry? Almost... jealous. No... no, I wouldn't even let myself think that.

"I told you to let go of me." I whispered to him out of the corner of my mouth. He laughed again. I hated the feeling of his chest against my back. I could feel his abs through his thin tank top. My lip was beginning to curl up.

"Come on, Becky, how about we go back to my place? For old time's sake?" He was trying to be sexy. It was having absolutely no effect on me.

"Get the _fuck_ off me before I rip your fucking balls off." My voice was nothing more than a growl. I almost smiled when I felt him let me go.

"Well, I see you haven't become any less of a bitch over time." I didn't look at him but I could hear him walking away. I drank the last of the liquid in my glass, not moving my eyes from the pattern on the counter, one which I had practically memorized.

"Hey..." Yet another unwelcome but familiar voice spoke next to me. Even though my brain told me not to, I couldn't help but look at her. Chloe stood there, looking more uncertain that I had ever seen her before, "...Beca, right?"

I couldn't believe she didn't even remember my name. She really was a tease. Stacie was right. She didn't remember anything about the people she did things with. I was just one in a hundred to her, one of the nameless, faceless people that she just wanted to fuck with, physically and mentally. I grudgingly nodded, watching as she sat next to me. God, she was beautiful. She had her red hair tied back in a sloppy bun. The same bracelets covered her wrists, with the same song lyrics and band names on them, all of which I was familiar with.

Her amazingly blue eyes scanned me up and down, "You look nice..." When Luke had said that mere minutes before, I dreaded the sound and willed it to get out of my head. But when Chloe said it, I felt so blessed, I felt so lucky, knowing that she had picked me out of anyone else she could have to compliment. But I knew now that she was just a tease. A "slut", as Stacie had said.

"Thanks." Was all that I could manage to say in response.

"So, uh..." She leaned forward in her seat as if to get as close to me as possible. I raised an eyebrow at her slowly, "...who was that guy?"

Okay, maybe I wasn't crazy, she definitely seemed jealous. I just didn't understand why, "Oh, that was my..." I was about to say ex, but then I realized just how much I wanted to make sure she really _was_ jealous, "...boyfriend. He had to leave, for work though." I wondered if she could tell that I was lying.

She looked taken aback and almost saddened, "Oh... um... you looked kinda mad at him, though. Are you guys fighting or something?" She leaned back a little, trying not to be noticeable, but I noticed.

Keeping up the lie I quickly responded with, "Yeah. I think I'm gonna dump him soon. He's so manipulating and rude. All he wants to do is have sex with me." All of that was accurate, to an extent. The time frame was just off.

I could basically feel her happiness at what I had said, "Oh that's a bummer..." She looked me up and down again, before smiling mischievously, "...but I understand why he wants to have sex with you all the time..."

I blushed but I knew that she was just toying with me. Even though I was aware of that, however, I barely cared, "I bet you say that to all the girls."

She stood up from the stool, walking slightly towards me. I was glad the lighting was dim in here, but people could still see us, and it was clear what she was about to do, "Only to the ones that are as hot as you..." She started to lean closer, she was going to kiss me, and I didn't know how I should react so I just froze. But she surprised me again - I should have known better, Chloe refused to be predictable - and she hovered inches from my lips, "...would your boyfriend get made if he found out you had sex with a girl?"

God I didn't think it was possible to be that alluring. Chloe was irresistible. But I had to remain adamant. I wouldn't be played with like this, "Yeah..."

She giggled, a sound that made me shudder, "Well then..." I could feel her hand moving up my thigh, "...would he get mad if he found out a girl had sex with you?"

I was starting to become lightheaded. How did she do that? Five seconds before I was determined not to fall under her spell but now I was totally enthralled. She could tell. I tried to fight it. Really I did.

"I uh..." Her blue eyes remained glued to mine, and I couldn't match their seemingly unreal intensity, "...I think that he migh-" My words were cut off when she kissed me, and my brain melted into a puddle. I knew then that there was no more protesting, at least not that night. I wouldn't be able to resist anymore. Her hands moved to my belt loops and her thumbs hooked into them.

When she pulled away I was breathless and unable to function like I normally would have. She had a twinkle to her eyes that I had never seen before, "Come on," She whispered to me. No matter how much I wanted to keep my promises to myself I knew that it was pointless to even try. She gently tugged me from the stool and started leading me off somewhere, I didn't pay much attention to where she was going. The bartender looked at me again. His look of pity had faded.

After a minute or so Chloe pushed me into some kind of storage room. It was normal sized and dimly lit, stacks of shelves with dusty cardboard boxes on them were scattered around in no real pattern. She led me to the middle of it, the heavy metal door closing on its own behind us. Her devilish smirk hadn't left her face. I was still subconsciously trying to resist this. But I couldn't. She knew that. I could tell from her expression. She liked being in control. It was slightly frightening.

"I've wanted to have sex with you since the first time I saw you," She whispered in my ear. I shuddered. I shouldn't be doing this. I knew that it was wrong. Stacie wouldn't want me to. Chloe was a tease. A slut. She was _using_ me.

Something inside of me snapped. I wasn't going to be manipulated. She shouldn't be able to have this power over me. Looking away from her I took a few steps back.

She laughed lightly, as if confused, but I knew she was aware of what she was doing, "Did I do something wrong?" She started to move towards me, but I backed up frantically, worrying what I might do if I got too close to her.

"Don't touch me." I spat out at her. I sensed her abrupt discomfort but she maintained her unmoved demeanor.

"You didn't seem to be rejecting me before..." She spoke in a low tone, trying to advance at me again, though I gave her a certain look that made her stop in her tracks.

"Well that was before I found out you just have sex with people and then throw them in the _fucking_ garbage," All of my pent up anger and frustration from the past weeks of uncertainty was erupting from me at once, "What was I? The fifth girl of the week? Sixth, seventh, eighth? When did you plan on dropping me and acting like I never existed? After you fucked me once, or twice?"

"Beca I-" She started to speak up, still smirking slightly, which was all the more infuriating.

I didn't let her say anything, "-No, actually, I feel _honored_ to be chosen by the notorious Chloe, I feel _so_ glad to be thought of by you for a few seconds while you're fucking me, and I'm _so_ glad that you plan on forgetting about me right afterward, because sex is just simple and basic, it doesn't mean anything, I totally agree. Because I _totally_ wasn't fucking torn apart when you would kiss me and then disappear, I wasn't totally devastated when I started to develop feelings for you and when my friend told me what a _slut_ you were, no, not at all. And it totally doesn't hurt like a _bitch_ whenever I see you, and whenever you just end up using me again."

I felt myself starting to tear up, which was incredibly embarrassing. I already felt stupid enough, revealing all of these things. Turning to leave I added on, "Sorry, my bad. I just thought that after I got abused and taken advantage of by my fucking boyfriend that the world would just be too cruel to make it happen again, so soon after. It's just my stupid fucking optimism I guess." I pushed the door open, "God I'm such a fucking idiot."

"Beca wait," I felt her grab my hand and I pulled mine away almost violently, getting outside the room and blending with the crowd, heading straight toward the exit.

She didn't follow me.


	6. Drained

I didn't talk to anyone. I didn't answer my phone and I didn't answer my door. I didn't want to see anyone. Not Jesse, not Stacie, and obviously not Chloe, though she wouldn't have shown up at my house anyway. I isolated myself again. Probably a bad idea in the long run, but I just wasn't in the right mental state to interact socially with people.

I had to go to work though. I had been gone for too long, I was gonna get fired and my budget really couldn't get any tighter than it already was. I was never overly close with my co-workers because we had virtually nothing in common. I worked in a Starbucks, classy, I know, but it paid enough for me to live like a moderate human being. It wasn't too bad of a job, Starbucks got a lot of customers and I was sure that would never change – so the likeliness of getting laid off or something was low unless I turned into a shit worker. Which I sort of was. Oh well.

I was behind the counter probably a little more than a week after the last night I saw Chloe. It was a really slow day for some reason. A surprisingly cold summer morning at like, 9 AM, and only a few hipsters had ordered their complicated beverages and retreated to a booth with their laptops in hand. My mood had been far from ideal since the whole Chloe thing. Honestly, I was just waiting for my tight-ass boss to reprimand me for being so bland to the customers. I couldn't bring myself to smile, especially not at the regulars of Starbucks.

The only co-worker that I could easily tolerate was Aubrey. She was constantly cheery and there was never not a big grin on her face. I've always had a soft spot for optimists, even if their happiness was fake, it was admirable they could keep up the ruse 24-7. That morning, Aubrey, myself and two other unimportant assholes were the only people working.

I kept my eyes trained on the counter top. My head hurt. I couldn't stop thinking about goddamn Chloe. Every time she came to mind I internally cursed myself. But I couldn't stop. _She doesn't have any control over you. Why can't you stop thinking about her?_ It must have seemed like I was pretty distant because Aubrey said something to me for the first time in a while. People just didn't try to approach me when I was like this. I guess I didn't blame them.

"Hey Beca, you alright?" Her bony elbow jabbed my ribcage gently to get my attention. Aubrey was one of those people who was a friend restricted to workplace interactions. I think that was a mutual thing because neither of us ever made any attempts to plan things on our own time.

"Yeah." My response was immediate, almost automatic. I felt like we weren't close enough for me to voice my troubles, even if I had wanted to. She was probably just asking to be polite – to show me that she had noticed my mood and was moderately sympathetic/concerned. I hadn't looked at her when I answered her question. The counter top had an interesting pattern that I had never noticed before. I rested my head that suddenly felt so heavy on one of my hands. It hadn't stopped throbbing.

I heard the sound of the door opening, and I felt the cold-ish wind of the morning rush through it. I shuddered ever so slightly in my t-shirt I had to wear as a uniform, beneath the Starbucks apron, of course. It was a customer. Time to at least feign paying attention. With reluctance I looked up to see who it was.

But I stopped still. My mouth had opened to ask them what they wanted, and it remained that way though no words came out of it. Now it was just agape. Aubrey glanced at me from her peripheral vision, I felt her eyes, her confusion - she had most likely raised a brow at me but that was it - before she took over.

"Welcome to Starbucks, what can I get you?" She asked in her chipper voice. But the customer wasn't interested in her, either. As soon as she walked in our eyes had met.

Chloe. It was Chloe. She was there. She was actually there. It was her. She looked different. Drained, almost. Maybe it was because the lighting here was decent. I could see her features better, and although she was still absolutely stunning, she seemed a bit listless. Her eyes looked even more blue, though, and I was almost convinced she wore the color-changing contact lenses or something. There was no way in hell someone's eyes could look like that naturally, that wouldn't be fair.

An incredible urge to leave overwhelmed me out of nowhere. When I had previously been slouched over the counter, I was now abruptly agile and awake. My movements were no longer slowed and energy coursed through me, my mind going a million miles an hour. I had to get away from her. I shouldn't be around her, it would make things worse. I knew that. She noticed my sudden haste and looked dismayed. Aubrey hadn't said anything else. All of this emotional turmoil had taken place in the course of fifteen seconds, so to her, it was nothing, but to Chloe and I, a lot had just happened.

"I'm on break," I stuttered out, my eyes not having moved from Chloe since I first noticed her. She hadn't looked away either. Aubrey looked over her shoulder at me as I backed away frantically, almost slamming into another co-worker in the process. I luckily avoided the collision and pushed the door open into the small, not too comfortable staff area. Chloe opened her mouth to say something right as the door shut behind me. I hadn't heard it. I didn't know if I wanted to hear it.

The next breath that I let out I had held in for an unknown amount of time. I was shaking. Why did she get to me so fucking much? We practically hadn't interacted outside of our brief physical encounters but I for some reason felt more of a connection with her than I ever had with Luke, or anyone else I ever dated. Was it because she was a girl, was that it? Was it because she was the first person I had romantic involvement with since the entire Luke ordeal? Was I just in a vulnerable state and I attached to people more quickly than usual now? I had no clue. But I remained in the same position – stiff, unstable, weak – facing the door I had gone through, staring at it as if I could still see Chloe, though all that was in front of me was the fake, plastic wood the barrier was made of.

Had she gone? How long was I going to wait? Poking my head out to peek was just too childish, too immature. The two douchebags out there that I worked with who weren't Aubrey would mock me to no end, especially if I didn't give them an explanation, which I didn't plan to. Was I just going to stand in here for hours until Aubrey came back too, annoyed, telling me to come help her? No... no, I had this feeling of complete terror that had enveloped my entire body and made me aware I physically couldn't go out there unless I was sure Chloe was gone, and that she would never ever come back. I wanted to go home. I had to. But I might get in trouble with my boss. I suddenly felt dizzy. My chest hurt. I walked toward the door that led outside into the sketchy little alley some of us left through. I was aware that the door didn't open from the outside, but I didn't really care, unfazed when it closed behind me.

The bitter air and the humidity was a welcome change of surrounding. Now I felt like I would always associate Starbucks with Chloe. I didn't need that, too. Work was the only place where I sort of started to feel normal again, and now I would constantly be staring at the door, ready to bolt if I saw her walking down the street. This wasn't fair. Why should _my_ life have to be so fucking altered when I had done absolutely nothing wrong? If anything, _she_ should be the one feeling guilty all the time, _she_ should be the one regretting her decisions, not me.

She had looked pretty upset in the brief, split-second glance I caught of her before the door blocked her from view. And why had she looked so... wiped out? All the times I saw her she seemed so exuberant, so full of life, it drew people to her like moths to a flame just because of how appealing her aura and appearance were together. Now that aura – yes, I'm legitimately using the word aura – was nonexistent. At least that's what it was like to me. She seemed sort of empty. Hollow, almost. I'm not sure how to describe it. You would only completely understand if you saw her when she was how she used to be, and then saw her the way I just did. You would spot all of the subtle ways she had changed. She had slight bags under her eyes that you wouldn't have noticed in the shitty lighting of a bar, or a concert. Her expression had been so void of emotions it was startling, I had never seen anyone look so indifferent to life, not even myself when Chloe had put me into one of those dysfunctional stupors. I might even say she looked lost.

I pressed my back against the brick wall to the right of the door. It was rough and uncomfortable against my bare arms but my legs sort of felt like jelly and my head was still spinning so I didn't care. The fact that I was so hung up on this one girl I knew nothing about was infuriating to me – I felt like a total fucking idiot, I hated myself for being so unable to change or get rid of my confusing feelings. And I had never hated myself before.

I jumped where I stood, startled, when the metal, loud door to the break room was opened. Aubrey stood in the doorway, holding the door open so she wouldn't be locked out, and looked at me with an unreadable expression. I might say she looked tired. She didn't seem too optimistic and cheery like she usually did, which would have been moderately jarring if I hadn't been in such an abnormal state of mind.

"Dude, what the hell?" She asked me.

"Sorry." Was all that I managed out, my voice quiet. I ran my palm down my face. If Aubrey was back here, that meant Chloe was gone, right?

"What's wrong with you? Why'd you basically run away when that girl walked in? She really wanted to see you but customers can't go into the staff area. I thought she might literally push me out of the way to get in there. Who was she?" I was listening really closely, clinging onto every word.

"Is she gone?" I needed to know. I didn't address any of her questions. I sounded really desperate, and I guess I was.

Aubrey looked even more confused and she looked at me quizzically, not responding for probably a minute straight because she was trying to tell what was going on. She must've been unable to, since she answered me, her words slow, "Um, yeah, she didn't even order anything. Just left after like five minutes of staring after you. I tried asking her what was wrong but she wouldn't say anything."

"Then she left?" My words were much faster than hers.

Aubrey crossed her arms, her eyes glued to mine, "No. Not right then. She asked me where she could find you and I gave her your address. It seemed like you two really knew each other so I just assumed that was fine..." She trailed off. Because she could tell from my expression that it most certainly _wasn't_ fine.

"You did _what?!_" I asked her, feeling the panic returning all over again right when it started to fade away. Again, my body felt flooded with energy and I felt like I needed to move, to do something, to go somewhere. What I might do or where I might go, I had no idea. So I just shook where I stood, my fists clenching, becoming incredibly tense.

"Whoa, sorry, I just..." She was trying to base what she planned on saying off of my reactions, "...she was so upset. I felt like I had to do something, I mean, she knew you somehow, you recognized one another. I just assumed that... I dunno..." She felt guilty. I could tell. She was just such a nice person, she wanted to make everyone happy, but in this particular situation she couldn't. She had tried her best though.

I didn't know what to do. I was so flustered. I couldn't even talk. I just started stammering out parts of sentences to her, and judging from her expression, I looked pretty pathetic.

"Do you want to go home?" She asked me cautiously, interrupting my attempt at a response.

Since I was stupidly unable to talk, I just nodded. I didn't know what else I could do. If I stayed at work I would be way too distracted to appropriately do anything. I would probably knock a bunch of shit over or make people think I was high. It would be better if I just left, despite being on moderately thin ice at work already. Aubrey was too nice to let me put myself through that when I was clearly so distraught.

"I'll cover for you. Don't worry. Why don't you just head on out, I'll tell Bumper." That was my boss. I'm pretty sure only she called him by that name and I wasn't sure why. I just called him Sir, although I didn't see him much anyway.

I just nodded again.


	7. A Thin Wall

I couldn't even resort to what I usually did when my normal life was stopped by Chloe. I couldn't just sit at home, simmering in my own feelings with no foreseeable end in sight, because she might come to my apartment. She knew where I lived now. Aubrey only knew because she had to come by once, to get something from me that I took from work. I guess she remembered or something, I didn't really know. I didn't really care. All I cared about was the possibility of Chloe just showing up on my doorstep.

My mood wouldn't allow me to leave my apartment and function like a regular human being, though. I had to stay inside and not see anyone. It wasn't good for me but I felt physically incapable of doing anything else.

When I got back from work that day it was 10 AM. I felt exhausted out of nowhere and passed out on my couch. I woke up at 5 PM but I felt like I hadn't slept at all. It was still light out because it was summer but the sun was about to set. I stood up and walked over to my window, my body feeling heavy. It wasn't like I had a good view of anything, just the patchy skyline a bit off in the distant and a busy street below. Shakily sighing, I crossed my arms.

I wondered where Chloe was. Did she plan on going to a show? It was Friday. There were usually a lot of shows on a Friday night. She seemed to frequent them. I assumed she would be at one of those. She wouldn't come by here. She had other stuff to do. I was just another face to her, another person she had fucked, I had no personality and no meaning behind my existence to her, she didn't want to see me again if I wasn't willing to have sex with her.

Right?

Did I hope all of that wasn't true? Did a part of me want her to come by, so that I could just see her, and talk to her? But what did I plan on saying? I was mad at her. At least, I think I was mad at her. But I was also hurt. So fucking hurt. What happened with Chloe really hit me hard and I can't explain why, even now.

A knock on my door made me jump. How long had I been standing there, mulling over my romance problems like a cliché fucking actor or something, all pensive at my window? Too long. I felt so stupid all the time then. Nothing I was feeling or doing made sense to me anymore and it was so annoying. I shook my head back and forth but it didn't help anything. I had no idea who might be at my door. It could be a lot of people. It could be Stacie, it could be Jesse, hell, it might be a concerned Aubrey.

Or it could be Chloe.

That was what held me to my spot and made it feel like moving was impossible. What if she was there? What if she wanted to come in? What if she wanted to talk to me? What if she tried to use me again? I couldn't deal with that. Not then. Maybe not ever. Just the _thought _of her being there made my already prominent instability overwhelm me. I probably just stood there for a minute straight. I had turned to face the door but that was it.

Whoever was there knocked again. I thought they had gone, I didn't know why, but I had. Maybe I just _hoped_ they had gone. My heart jumped into my throat. What should I do? Should I answer it? Should I ask who was there? Should I hide in my room? The latter seemed like the best option. But to get to my room, I had to walk right by the door and for some reason that sounded like such a terrifying concept to me.

I had to do something. I knew I did. I needed to start functioning like a normal human being again if I wanted to avoid being sent into another Chloe-induced-stupor. Taking a very deep, shaky breath, I forced myself forward. My body got more and more tense the closer I got to the door. By the time I was at my room's entrance and directly next to it, I felt like I had turned completely into stone. The feeling was so intense I got frozen to the spot again, but this time I was so goddamn close to whoever the knocker was, they were literally just a wall away from me, and a thin, shitty wall at that. If I tried hard enough I might be able to hear their breathing.

They knocked again. I felt like I was going to pass out. Why didn't I just keep going? Why didn't I just walk into my bedroom, get in my bed and bury myself under the covers?

Someone spoke from behind the door. It was a muffled voice, quiet and apprehensive, but I recognized it immediately.

"...Beca?"

I inhaled so sharply it hurt my ribcage. _Oh God. Oh God no. Fuck. Fucking seriously? Really? Her? Now? Here? What? Why? Fuck_. It was Chloe. It was her. She had shown up, she was here, and I had no idea what to do. She was in earshot, basically. I didn't know _why_ she was there, but she was. And I had to do something. Right? Wrong? Was I obligated to do something? Should I feel obligated? Was I being totally stupid and over-thinking this? Probably. But I didn't know what else to do. Over-thinking was my thing.

My already open mouth started stammering things out, not forming real words, but just sort of stuttering. She couldn't hear, there was no way, I was barely being audible. Did I want her to hear?

"...Um... Beca, I..." She was practically whispering. I had never heard Chloe sound so nervous before, she was always so certain and confident. It made my chest feel even more constricted than it already was. I was listening intently, clinging onto every word, "...I'm sorry. Please, I... I know you're in there..." How could she know that? I was convinced she was lying, "...I can tell." My body tensed. What did she mean by that?

Again, I almost responded to her instinctively, but the part of me that was still rational prevented me from saying anything. I was starting to cry. Why the _fuck_ did she get to me so much? It was so frustrating. My eyes stung. I blinked rapidly, looking upwards, trying desperately to prevent tears that would just make me feel more pathetic than I already did.

"You have... _every_ right to be mad at me, and to not want to talk to me again, but... just..." The emotion behind her words was unreal. I had never heard _anyone_ sound that emotional, let alone someone that seemed so stony and emotionless like Chloe. Had I really affected her that much, or was this just part of her act? I _so _wanted to believe it was real, "...Can we talk about this? You stormed off last time... I had no idea you felt that way, nobody has ever..." She trailed off. Her voice had broken. Wow.

Nope, this was real. Nobody could fake this, at least nobody that I knew. But did I know Chloe? I had no clue. I still knew virtually nothing about her. The thing was, though, that I still _wanted_ to know _everything_ about her. I wanted to know her favorite color, where she grew up, who her parents were, if she had any siblings, any pets, what her hobbies were, what her middle name was, what her last name even was, if she had any piercings or any tattoos, if she was a vegetarian, her taste in books, her favorite food, if she wanted to travel, what her dreams were, where she worked, where she lived, who she was friends with, what TV shows she watched, how much time she spent on Netflix, whether or not she believed in ghosts, if she had ever broken a bone, if she liked to sing, if she played an instrument, if she had ever smoked before, what types of movies she liked, when her birthday was, _everything_. But I didn't know why that was. My infatuation made no sense to me, which made it all the more aggravating to deal with.

I'm not sure how long I stood there, not responding, lost in my own totally random train of thought, but I guess long enough for her to lose her seemingly abrupt courage and certainty of herself – which was low enough already, "...Beca...? Please... just say something... _any_thing." I heard the tears in her voice. I clenched my fists and bit my lower lip, almost blurting something out when I heard the desperation in her tone, "...We..." She sighed shakily, maybe it was just an exhale, it was hard to tell through the door. She had said "we". Why did that one word mean so much to me? Why was I reading into it to such an extent? Whatever she had planned on saying, she changed her mind, "...just know that I'm sorry. Really sorry. I feel like an idiot, I feel like-" It was like she choked on her next word and I couldn't make it out. The urge to burst into tears was starting to overwhelm me, "...I should go, I shouldn't have... I couldn't... I'm _sorry_."

There was a pause where nothing was said. Then I vaguely heard her footsteps getting farther away.

I wanted to go into my room and try to sleep, but I was still so goddamn tense I felt like I couldn't move. So I just leaned against my doorway and sobbed into my hand.


	8. For Weeks

Work was terrifying. I didn't want to be there. But I needed the money. Rent for my apartment was due soon, and I was already short on cash. The landlord had it in for me since I was a shitty tenant, rarely paying on time and apparently "making too much noise", which I didn't even do. But that's beside the point.

The next day I stood really stiffly, constantly near the staff door to the break room, ready to bolt if she walked in. Aubrey noticed how weird I was being, and after the day before, she must have thought I was going crazy or something. Maybe I was. I had no idea what was going on with me. After my stupid crying fit that I had no control of – it went on for hours – I fell asleep on the floor, which earned me a sore back and neck in the morning. That coupled with the emotional shit going on inside of me was enough to make me feel unstable, and fragile. I was worried that if Starbucks air conditioning let out a particularly strong breeze of air, I would tip over.

Adding onto all of that, Bumper approached me at a point and started to reprimand me for being such a shitty, inconsistent worker for the past month or so. I guess I seemed pretty indifferent throughout the one-sided "conversation", because he just got even more angry with me. His voice gradually increased in volume and the louder it got, the more embarrassed I was. Aubrey was doing her best not to look in my direction, but the other two douches working at the time were yucking it up over by themselves while they watched like it was premium entertainment.

I expected a punishment, that was just sort of inevitable at this point, and I got one. I wasn't sure if it was fitting or a bit too much. I had to go clean the bathroom. I think Bumper knew just how grossed out that made me, because I caught his small smirk of satisfaction while I grudgingly got the cleaning supplies and trudged over to my designated cleaning area. Aubrey shot me a look of pity that wasn't appreciated either. But I wasn't mad at either of them. I was still only mad at myself.

I scrubbed and scoured, obviously not enjoying myself, but moderately relaxed knowing that nobody could see me in here. My demeanor that just reeked of weakness and instability was often noticed and judged. I didn't want to feel judged on top of all these other shitty feelings.

I finished cleaning but lingered a bit longer than I had to. It made it seem like I was working more diligently than I was, and it gave me some more time to myself. I washed my hands under freezing cold water, then shook them dry. I was about leave but I forgot some of the supplies. When I turned to get them, I heard the door open behind me.

Someone had come in but they hadn't knocked. It was a one-stall bathroom. I turned around and froze.

The world had a really fucking twisted sense of humor. First I had to clean the bathroom and get openly reprimanded by Bumper, now Chloe had busted in here? She was blocking the door, there was no way out, unless I pushed past her and I didn't trust myself being that close. Our eyes were both wide and our jaws had both dropped. She had inhaled sharply when she first came in, and the breath had been held. I was worried she might suffocate. I was also worried I might pass out.

The bathroom was so goddamn small she was pretty much three feet away from me, if that. My heart had leapt into my throat so quickly I thought I might choke to death, and it refused to return back to its normal place in my chest.

I needed to get away. But I couldn't. Instead I backed up and pressed myself into the wall, trying to put as much distance between us as possible. She looked drained, like the last time I saw her there. It concerned me, but why? Why was I concerned about her? She wasn't concerned about me. But did that matter? Did I care? Sometimes it felt like I only cared about her – which didn't make sense. I had family and I had friends. All Chloe was was a random, promiscuous girl that I met at a bar one night. Nothing more. Right?

She finally started to breathe again, releasing my name in an exhale, "Beca, oh my God, I didn't think you were working, that girl at the counter said you weren't-" She took a step closer but I held up my hand, making her freeze immediately. I saw her swallow hard. It looked like it had taken a lot of effort to keep herself still, "...I'm sorry. I just..." She smiled and her eyes were glossy, "...I'm really glad to see you!" Her smile faded when I didn't respond, and when my expression didn't change in the slightest.

I was so fucking confused. She never made any sense. Why was she so happy to see me? Why had she come to Starbucks to look for me again? What did she want? Did she know how much she was killing me?

"I...I'm not sure what to say, honestly." Her nervousness was showing through in her mannerisms. Her voice had the same tone as it did when she had been outside my apartment the night before.

"...Me neither." I finally spoke. I was quiet and obviously apprehensive. She smiled again and I raised an eyebrow at her.

"Sorry I..." She laughed nervously to herself, her eyes not having moved from mine since she came in, "...you said something to me." When my confused expression didn't fade she elaborated, "You haven't since..."

I knew what she was referencing, but she didn't say anything more – almost like it was too difficult to talk about at all. I thought for a moment. I temporarily changed my perspective on Chloe and started to think of her as a normal person with normal relationships. When I did, my mind became a total mess. Maybe what I had said really, really got to her, like how her entering my life had gotten to me. Maybe I was constantly on her mind. Maybe her nights were spent playing that last conversation over and over again in her head. Maybe I had unintentionally thrown her whole life off course. Wow. Even the concept that I was to her what she was to me was mind-boggling. I could barely grasp it.

"Chloe..." Something changed in her eyes when I said her name – they lit up and her smile became less forced, "...why are you here? Why did you come to my work again? I mean, I doubt it's a coincidence." Even though this was a legitimate conversation now, I was staying as far from her as possible and I still desperately wanted to get out of that bathroom.

"I wanted to talk to you in person... things between us ended really badly and-"

"-what do you mean 'things between us'?" I interrupted her, still impressed with how steady my words were remaining. Although my voice didn't shake, my hands did, so I clenched them into tight fists.

She stuttered some things but didn't say anything else coherent for a good few seconds. She hadn't expected me to cut her off or ask her the question that I had, that much was pretty clear. Right when I was starting to wonder if I was being too harsh, she managed to respond.

"Well... you know... those times when we were together. When we would... bump into each other and then I would leave without saying anything." The guilt in her voice was so incredibly real. I had gotten to her. And I think I was the first one to ever do that. If I hadn't been, it wouldn't have rattled her so much. She was avoiding saying anything that might offend me or bring up bad memories. I wasn't sure how I felt about that.

"I just... Chloe, you're right. Those... things... ended badly. Don't you think it would be best if we... left them alone?" Honestly, looking back on it, I don't think I was totally aware of what I was saying.

"You don't..." She was coming unhinged. The glossiness to her eyes intensified and her lip started to quiver. My unaffected expression faded and the empathy showed through. But I didn't say anything else and I didn't try to interrupt her, "...what? So you don't want anything to do with me anymore?" Her voice broke. I hated that sound.

I exhaled shakily, "...I... it's not that simple."

My chest started to hurt as I could literally see her composure dwindling down to nothing. Finally, something snapped behind her eyes and she just started _rambling_, less in control than I had ever seen her before, "Beca, you don't understand, no matter how hard I try to forget what you said, that night never left me and it got etched into the walls of my brain and it comes back to haunt me whenever I try to sleep. Please. I fucked up with you, I know I did, but I'm _trying_ to fix it, I'm trying _so_ hard, because you didn't deserve what I did to you and I'm so sorry and I just want to make it up to you but I don't know how, you've been all I can think about for _weeks_-"

"-Chloe please stop." I was getting overwhelmed. The last thing in the world I wanted at that moment was to start crying, and my ability to keep the tears back was steadily weakening. I couldn't leave work early again, Aubrey had been covering for me too much. She would probably lose her credibility soon and it would be my fault. I was going to get fired soon too. I wasn't going to let Chloe ruin my life when that wasn't her intention.

She blushed and her eyes moved to her shoes, "...I'm sorry."

"It's okay, but... Chloe, I need to work. Every time you show up here I'm dysfunctional for the rest of the day and I have to leave early. My boss is getting pissed off... can you please do me a favor and just go...?" I made my words as gentle as possible, thinking that if they at least sounded nice, the fact that I was asking her to leave wouldn't seem as mean.

She looked back up at me. A silence spread. I knew that she was waiting for something. She was waiting for me to take it back, to say something like "wait, just kidding, you can stay", but I wasn't going to. Eventually she realized that, and her blush got more intense. It wasn't like I was being totally heartless, it was a reasonable request. She was just too distracting.

Finally, she answered my question, "Yeah, um, of course. Sorry I came." She turned to leave but she had successfully made me feel like an asshole. That was probably her intention.

Groaning inwardly I reached forward and grabbed her hand, keeping her in the room. She immediately faced me again, looking so hopeful it made my chest hurt. Immediately I pulled my hand away, wondering if it was stupid to touch her like that, and she noticed my haste.

"Don't apologize. Maybe we can... see each other some other time?" _Like when?_ I asked myself. Knowing me, I would put this off for as long as possible until like two months later when I would run out of legitimate-sounding excuses. That was my routine in these sorts of situations.

Chloe's eyes moved to the hand that had previously held hers. I could already tell that interaction meant way more to her than it should have and I regretted it. Should I have, though? My head throbbed a few times. She tended to give me headaches with the smallest of things.

It took her a weirdly long time to say anything back, "Okay. I would really like that..." She was being careful of what she said, I could tell. I wasn't sure how to feel about that. I was uncertain of basically everything in regards to her.

The air became even heavier than it had been. A silence spread, which made things awkward too. After what must've been two minutes I forced myself to weirdly gesture to the door. In any other situation the dumb hand movement I made would've been completely unreadable, but she understood what I meant and turned to leave almost immediately afterward.

When the door closed behind her, I felt like I could actually breathe again.

But I still couldn't think straight.


End file.
